


Once Upon A Dream

by SunriseRose1023



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amnesia, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Case Fic, Coma, Homosexuality, Hospitalization, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-07 18:11:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6818779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunriseRose1023/pseuds/SunriseRose1023
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam falls asleep in a motel room, in his usual spot, the bed opposite his brother. He wakes up in an alternate world, in a cozy house, where the man he knows as his brother is actually his boyfriend. When Sam learns about the life they share, it seems as if his wildest dreams have come true.</p>
<p>Back in the world Sam left behind, Dean is frantically trying everything he can to stop a mysterious monster and save his dying brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my entry for the Tumblr 2016 SPN Case Fic Mini-Bang! This was my first time trying this out and I had a great time doing it! The monster in this story is a creation all my own, a made-up monster that has not actually been on the show. I'd love to hear the thoughts on it! 
> 
> Art was created by the AMAZING bluefire986. She was so nice and willing to go out on a limb for me, helping me to create this monster, and the way she's brought it to life just amazes me. Please give her page a look and give her some comments on her incredible art.

[](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_final.png.html)

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Cone.png.html)

They shuffled into the room with identical groans, each step radiating soreness through their tired muscles. Dean had called dibs on the first shower while they were in the car, so when the water started up, Sam reached his arms over his head, fingertips brushing against the ceiling. He yawned widely, then went about laying the salt lines, digging a piece of chalk from his bag and scratching some sigils into the wood of the windowsill, each of the headboards, and just above the door.

He yawned again, kneeling to put the chalk back in his bag and pulling out some clothes to sleep in. He glanced up when Dean walked out of the bathroom, sweatpants slung low, rubbing a towel over his wet hair and still-damp chest. He motioned with his head.

“Shower’s free. Good water pressure.”

Sam nodded at him, yawning widely again, ending it with a shake of his head. Dean laughed to himself.

“You gonna make it, Sasquatch?”  
“I’m fucking tired, man.”

Dean laughed again.

“I hear you. Want me to have you a beer when you’re done?”

Sam shook his head.

“I might make it to the bed, but if you hear a crash or something, just bring a blanket and leave me in there.”

Dean rolled his eyes and Sam walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He stretched again, groaning as he turned the water on, staring into the mirror as he yawned again. He slapped himself lightly on his cheeks, blinking wide eyes as he undressed and climbed under the water. He groaned at the feel of the almost-scalding water on his back and hung his head for a moment. 

Living with Dean for nearly every moment of his life had taught him a few things, and one of the biggest was that Dean was a hot water-hog. Sam shampooed his hair quickly, rubbing soap all over his body, and had just pushed conditioner into his hair when the water began to cool. Sam smiled, washing his face and putting it into the now-rapidly cooling water, turning to rinse the conditioner out, and shut the water off before it turned icy. 

He shivered before he reached out of the shower, grabbing a towel and drying himself off, reaching for his boxers, then smiling when he saw the cup of water at the sink. He picked it up and downed it, licking his lips at the cool, refreshing taste. He tugged his sweatpants on, dabbed the towel over his chest, then walked into the room.

“Thanks for the water, man.”

Dean glanced over from where he was stretched out on his bed, remote in hand, flicking through the grainy television.

“What water?”

Sam rolled his eyes, walking over and flopping facedown on his bed with a groan. He grabbed a pillow and wrapped his arms around it, settling it under his head, and Sam closed his eyes.

“Dude, I’m crashing. Hard.”  
“I can tell. Sweet dreams, Sammy.”

Sam nodded, breathing in deeply, sound asleep before he could exhale.

  
[](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)  
  


Warm sunlight almost caressing his face was what woke Sam up. He took in a breath, stretching his long arms and legs, groaning as he pressed his face into the pillow, then sighed, rolling onto his back. He blinked his eyes open, face falling. He slowly sat up, looking around the room, then licked his lips.

“What the hell?”

Hazel eyes danced around the room, which was definitely not the one Sam remembered falling asleep in. No, this room had one big bed—huge, really—with soft cotton sheets, not the scratchy ones Sam could remember burrowing under. There was an actual comforter, with no mysterious stains, and pillows that were soft, fluffy, and very comfortable.  
Sam glanced over to see a nightstand there, and another glance revealed a matching one at the other side of the bed. Sam swung his legs over, studying the items he could see. A clock, a cell phone plugged into a charger, an empty glass on a coaster.

Sam shook his head, standing up, feet sinking into plush carpet. He swallowed, making his way to a bathroom, lips pursing when he saw how big it was. There was a walk-in shower with multiple showerheads, a huge counter cluttered with different items, and two mirrors and sinks. 

Sam nodded his head. Something had happened, but he didn’t know what. He was apparently living in this house with someone else. He tried to remain calm as he went through his usual morning routine, including brushing his teeth with what he sincerely hoped was his toothbrush. 

He looked at himself in the mirror, studying his face. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Same hair, same multi-colored eyes, same nose. Same little moles beside said nose. He opened his mouth and breathed a sigh of relief that no teeth were missing. He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head before meeting his reflection in the mirror.

“I’m fine. Everything’s fine. No big deal. Stay calm.”

Sam nodded to himself, straightening his spine before he walked from the bathroom. He went ahead and bit the bullet, leaving the room and glancing down the hallway. He saw a set of stairs and blinked, then shook his head. Okay, so he was in a house. A very nice house, by the looks of things. He walked down the stairs, following the smell of coffee, and found himself in the kitchen, where he came to a hard stop.

Someone familiar was standing at the counter, a cup of steaming coffee in one hand. Sam felt relief wash over him, and a smile broke across his face.

“Dean?”

Dean turned around, face lighting up with a smile when he saw Sam.

“Hey, baby. Good morning.”

Sam blinked hard. _“Baby?”_ Dean turned around just in time to snatch a piece of toast from the toaster, wincing until he set it on a napkin before slathering butter over it. He motioned with his head at the other slice, still in the toaster.

“Fixed breakfast for you.”

Dean cackled to himself.

“I did make you an iced coffee, though. It’s in the fridge. You feeling better?”

Sam raised an eyebrow, and Dean nodded as he took a bite of his toast, speaking with his mouth full. 

“You had such a bad headache last night.”  
“Oh. No, I … My head feels fine.”

Dean nodded.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve got the day off, anyway. Look, I’ve got to get to work. Don’t forget we’ve got that thing tonight with your parents.”  
“My … parents? Dean, what—“

Dean leaned over, softly pressing his lips to Sam’s.

“Love you.”

Sam watched him walk out the kitchen, listened to the door open and close. Sam turned back, staring at the toast in the toaster, before something warm and furry bumped against his leg. He looked down to see a chocolate lab sit beside him, tongue lolling out of its mouth. Sam shook his head.

“What. The. Hell?”


	2. Chapter 2

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Ctwo.png.html)

Sam sat in a plush chair in the living room, one hand over his mouth, the other absently petting the dog’s head, which was resting on his knee. The dog—Molly, according to her collar—hadn’t left his side. She stared up at him with big blue eyes, the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen.

Well. Not _the_ prettiest. His tastes tended to lean towards green. 

Sam groaned, rubbing his hand over his face. Molly gave a whine beside him and he sat back in the chair, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath. 

Something was wrong.

That was painfully obvious. Sam swallowed as he glanced around the room, searching for something—anything—that could give his racing mind a clue. His eyes landed on a shelf of photos and he stood up, murmuring an apology to the dog, who was startled by his sudden movements. He walked over and took his time, studying one photo before moving to the next. The first one he saw almost knocked him to his knees. 

It was him, but as a twelve-year-old. He knew because one, he knew himself, and two, it’s hard to forget that floppy hair and those gangly limbs, nothing but sharp elbows and knees. Sam didn’t really spend a lot of time smiling when he was almost a teenager. But in this photo, his smile was lighting up the picture. The smile on his face which was almost identical to the smile of the woman behind him. 

Soft blonde hair, Dean’s green eyes, and a gentle, loving smile.

Mary Winchester.

_Mom._

His mom was alive.

Sam closed his eyes, setting the photo back on the shelf. The next one shocked him almost as much as the first one did. The man standing behind a young, gap-toothed Sam was as familiar as his own face. John Winchester was smiling back at him—which was a miracle in and of itself—but the matching baseball outfits in the photo offered up a multitude of questions for Sam.

He set that photo back on the shelf and moved to the next one, a smile crossing his face when he noticed the red Stanford hoodie photo Sam was wearing. And right next to him, in a similar white Stanford sweatshirt, was Dean. They were younger, Sam just barely taller than Dean instead of the way he towered over him now. Sam had his arm around Dean’s shoulder, and Dean was wearing glasses.

Sam shook his head. Dean hadn’t worn a pair of glasses a day in his life, unless they were sunglasses. 

He moved to the next photo, swallowing hard when he saw the next photo, this one a pair in a double-frame. The first could be considered a “typical” picture, himself and Dean, sitting in front of John and Mary, a huge Christmas tree behind them. But the other picture ... Mary was holding a sprig of mistletoe above her head as she was kissed by John, and on the floor in front of them, Dean is doing the same thing, holding mistletoe above his head as he and Sam kissed. 

Sam ran his hand over his mouth again, then pushed both hands through his hair, linking his fingers at the back of his head. 

His parents were alive, together, and apparently doing well.  
He'd apparently had a “normal” childhood.  
He and Dean aren’t brothers, but … boyfriends?

Sam looked at his hands, turning them over, studying his fingers. No ring, no tan line from a ring. He looked towards the door then went on a search through the house until he found a cell phone. He woke it up, discovered that it was password protected. He put in the first numbers that came to mind, 5283, and the phone unlocked.

Okay, so his phone. He clicked on the “Contacts” icon and scrolled down until he saw Dean’s name, with a heart beside it. He licked his lips, then pressed the number, lifting the phone to his ear. He sank down onto the couch, slowly rocking back and forth, eyes closed as he listened to the phone ring.

_“Hey, you. Miss me already?”_

Sam could give nothing more than a strangled gasp, and Dean’s voice instantly changed.

_“Sam? Sammy, what is it?”_

Sam gasped again, and Molly gave a loud bark.

_“Shit. Hang on, babe. Stay on the phone with me, Sam.”_

Tears were gathering behind his closed eyes, and Sam couldn’t stop the quiet sob from escaping his throat.

_“Five minutes, baby. Give me five minutes.”_  
“Dean—“  
_“I’m coming, Sam. Five minutes. Stay with me. Talk to me.”_  
“I—I don’t—“  
_“You’re okay. I’m almost there. Damn it, I knew I shouldn’t have left this morning. Stay with me, baby.”_  
“I’m here.”  
_“Good. Let me listen to you breathe if you can’t talk, okay?”_

Sam just nodded, tears dripping down his cheeks. Dean kept talking to him, asking questions, moving on when Sam couldn’t give him an answer. It seemed like an eternity, but he knew it couldn’t have even been the five minutes Dean had promised before a key was turning and the front door opened. The phone fell from Sam’s hand as strong arms looped around him, pulling him back to a wide, warm chest, gentle fingers carding through his hair. Sam reached up and grasped Dean’s arms like a lifeline.

“I got you, babe. You’re okay. Everything’s okay, Sammy.”

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)

Sam sat on the couch, long legs stretched out almost to the end, covered in a warm blanket. Dean walked in from the kitchen, a cup of coffee for himself in one hand, a cup of cocoa for Sam in the other. Sam took the cup from him gratefully, and Dean made him sit up, taking the seat at the end of the couch, maneuvering Sam to lay back down, this time with his head in Dean’s lap. Dean began slowly pushing his fingers through Sam’s hair and Sam closed his eyes.

“You feeling any better?”

Sam sighed, blinking his eyes open, glancing up at Dean.

“I don’t know.”  
“Can you talk about it?”

Sam sighed again.

“I feel … weird. I don’t know what’s going on. It’s like I’m—“  
“In a different world?”

Sam’s eyes widened, and he sat up, staring at Dean.

“Yes. Exactly.”

Dean nodded, smiling sadly.

“I should have known this was coming.”  
“What?”

Dean scooted a bit closer, looping his arm around Sam’s neck.

“Do you remember anything from yesterday?”

Sam shook his head, and Dean closed his eyes for a second. Sam hesitated, then reached over, laying his hand atop Dean’s.

“What is it?”

Dean blinked sad green eyes open, giving Sam another smile.

“Honey, you … you’ve got a … a brain tumor.”

Sam went still, and Dean shook his head.

“No, it—it’s not cancer or anything like that. It’s benign, they said. It just … it messes with your mind sometimes.”

Sam shook his head, and Dean patted his leg, then laced their fingers together. 

“Most of the time, you’re fine. You can do everything you’ve always done. You run a lot, take Molly out for walks. But sometimes, you … you get these headaches and they lay you out. Sometimes you can sleep it off, but when you wake up, it’s almost like you’ve got amnesia or something.”  
“I’ve done this before?”

Dean sighed.

“A few times. Scared the shit out of me the first time you did it. I took you to the hospital and they scanned you, ran a butt-load of tests. It’s the tumor.”  
“Why don’t they remove it?”

Dean smiled, pushing a strand of hair out of Sam’s eyes.

“They can’t. It’s in a tight spot, and there’s a big chance of damage if they remove it. It’s not growing right now, so we’re just watching it and dealing.”

Dean reached over, cupping Sam’s cheek in his hand.

“I can’t lose you, big guy. So I do my best to take care of you.”  
“You always have.”

Dean smiled again, leaning over and kissing Sam’s cheek. He started to get up, but Sam squeezed his hand, and he relaxed back against the couch. Sam shook his head. 

“I … I don’t …”

He let out a breath.

“What do you usually do when this happens?”

Dean smiled, getting Sam to lay back down, head in his lap, and began stroking his hair again. 

“We sit and we talk. I tell you everything you’re not sure about. Do I need to do that now?”

Sam nodded, and Dean nodded back to him.

“You’re Sam Winchester. Only son of John and Mary Winchester, who are absolutely crazy about you. But they love me, too.”

Sam smiled, and Dean went on.

“They live about ten minutes from here, swing by all the time for dinner. Your mom thinks I don’t feed you enough. I mean, I cook, but someone’s got to bring home the bacon. Not to mention you eat as much as a small army, Sasquatch that you are.”

Sam glanced up and Dean winked at him before he continued on.

“My name is Dean Singer.”  
“Singer?”

Dean nodded.

“Bobby and Karen are my parents. Only child, just like you, but I swear Mom and Pop love you more than they love me.”

Sam laughed at that, and Dean pinched his hip.

“Not funny. Anyway, Mom and Pop live in South Dakota, but they come visit all the time. Got to keep tabs on their ‘favorite boy,’ a.k.a. you.”

Sam smiled, and Dean kept running his fingers through Sam’s hair.

“You and I met at Stanford. I was a year ahead of you, since I took a couple years off after high school to explore and find myself and all that other bullshit.”

Sam laughed, and Dean went on.

“You were in my Political Science class. First day, you asked this question that stumped the professor. But even though he didn’t know the answer, you made it where he didn’t feel stupid for not knowing. You phrased the question and your follow-up comments in such a way that everyone in the class was smiling and comfortable and at ease. By the time class dismissed, I knew I had to find you.”

Dean had a soft smile on his face.

“We went out for coffee, stayed out all night—unintentionally, of course.”  
“Of course.”

Sam smiled, and Dean’s voice went soft.

“That night with you was the best night of my life. We’ve been together ever since. And I wouldn’t trade a second.”

Dean leaned down, gently laying his lips on Sam’s, kissing him slowly. Sam kissed back, feeling his body melt into the couch, and Dean chuckled when he pulled away, noticing how deep and even Sam’s breathing had become. Dean leaned back, stretching his legs out and propping his feet on the ottoman at his end, dozing off as well.

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)

Sam woke to the sound of a low voice.

“Well, he’s been asleep most of the morning. He had a headache last night and … Yeah, it happened again. … No, he was okay. Well, pretty much okay. … Work’s fine without me today. … No, he’s off the rest of the week. I took care of that. … Well, that’s why I’m calling. I’m not sure about tonight.”  
“What’s tonight?”

Dean glanced over his shoulder, seeing Sam standing in the doorway of the kitchen, one eye open, scratching his chest. He smiled.

“Sleeping Beauty just woke up.”

Dean listened for a moment, then nodded to Sam.

“Your mom says hi.”

Sam blinked, walking over and taking the phone from Dean. He swallowed, lifting it to his ear.

“He—hello?”  
_“Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”_

Tears immediately welled in Sam’s eyes. Her voice was just as he’d always imagined it, soft and sweet, full of love.

_“Sammy?”_  
“Yeah, I—I’m here.”

Sam cleared his throat, closing his eyes, gripping the phone tightly. Mary spoke again, as gentle as before.

_“Dean told me you weren’t feeling well last night.”_  
“Yeah, I … I had a headache or something.”  
_“You don’t remember?”_  
“No.”

Mary made a humming sound, then spoke again.

_“Well, I know we were supposed to have dinner tonight, but if you’re not well—“_  
“No!”

Dean gave Sam a look as the phone went quiet. Sam shook his head, turning away from Dean.

“No, I … I’m sorry. Dinner would be great.”  
_“Sammy, if you’re not up to it, it’s fine. Your dad and I can see you another day.”_  
“No, M—Mom, I …”

Sam swallowed, only able to whisper one word.

“Please.”  
_“Oh, honey. Of course. Tell Dean we’ll meet you two at the restaurant at 7:30. Your dad’s working later tonight.”_

Sam nodded, closing his eyes and smiling until the lump in his throat eased enough for him to talk.

“I can’t wait to see you.”  
_“Well, I can’t wait to see you either, baby. I love you.”_  
“I love you too, Mom.”

Sam hung up the phone, setting it down on the counter.

“So I guess dinner’s still on.”

Sam turned around, wrapping his arms around Dean and putting his face in his neck. Dean jolted at first, then wrapped him up in return, holding him tightly.


	3. Chapter 3

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Cthree.png.html)

Sam sat at the bar in the kitchen, watching Dean make them grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. The tomato soup was already ready, and Sam had been told to keep his mouth shut, that they deserved some comfort food today.

Dean flipped a sandwich, making a fist when it flipped perfectly, and Sam smiled. Dean glanced back at him and gave him a wink, and when he turned back around, Sam chewed on his bottom lip. He was quiet, and when Dean slid one of the sandwiches onto a plate, buttering another piece of bread, he spoke, his back to Sam.

“All right, out with it.”  
“Hmm?”  
“What’s going on in that big brain of yours?”

Sam let out a laugh, and Dean shook his head. 

“Five years together and you still think I don’t know you.”

Sam swallowed, then laid his hands on the cool countertop. He took a breath, letting it out slowly, then spoke.

“Dean, this … It isn’t right.”  
“What isn’t?”  
“This life.”

Dean nodded, flipping the sandwich, cursing under his breath when it didn’t go as well as the first sandwich did.

“Tell me how.”  
“How what?”  
“How this life isn’t right. What do you mean, Sam?”

Sam swallowed.

“Well, I … I lied earlier. I do remember yesterday.”

Dean turned slightly, staring at Sam.

“Why lie to me?”  
“Because yesterday? Yesterday we killed a shapeshifter in Missouri. Mile and a half from the Arch. We went back to the motel, showered, and went to bed. When I woke up, I was here.”  
“A shapeshifter.”

Sam nodded.

“And Dean, we … You and I? We’re brothers. John and Mary are our parents, but Mary died when I was a baby. Bobby Singer is the—the closest thing we’ve got to an uncle. I left you and Dad to go off to Stanford, but you came and got me a couple years ago, and we’ve—“  
“We’ve been hunting monsters and shit together ever since.”

Sam stopped, eyes going wide. He blinked, then nodded.

“Yes.”  
“So, what are you thinking? Some monster’s attacked you?”  
“Yes!”

Sam stood up, walking around the bar and stopping behind Dean, watching him move a sandwich around. He cleared his throat and spoke again.

“I think it might be a djinn or something. This whole alternate universe is a djinn’s M.O.”

Dean nodded, then sighed, sliding the sandwich from the pan and onto a plate. He reached over and flipped the stove off, then turned, laying his hands on Sam’s shoulders. 

“Sweetheart …”

Dean shook his head, smiling softly.

“Those are your books.”  
“My what?”

Dean took his hand and led him from the kitchen, down the hall to an office. Sam blinked when he looked around, eyes widening at the top-of-the-line desktop computer in one corner of the room. There were shelves everywhere, packed full of books. Dean walked to one wall, the shelves there not quite as stuffed as the rest of the room. He smiled, motioning with his head.

“This wall is mine. We had quite the … discussion, if you will, about me having a whole wall. But I won. The rest of the shelves are yours, and these right here in the middle …”

Dean walked over, a smile blooming over his face.

“These are the reason we have this house, the cars, how we’re taking your parents out tonight, and why I really don’t need to work, but I’d go crazy if I didn’t.”

Sam stepped closer to where Dean was pointing, reaching out and running his fingers down the spine of a book. It was titled “The Benders: A Supernatural Mystery,” by Sam Winchester. He blinked and leaned closer, and his mouth fell open. Dean pulled the book from its place and handed it to Sam, who immediately flipped the cover open, stopping at the dedication.

_“To my other half,_  
None of this could be without you. I love you, now and forever. This is for you, my Dean. All of this is for you.  
-Sam” 

Sam swallowed, and Dean leaned forward, gently kissing his cheek. Sam turned his head, and Dean lifted a hand, pushing it through Sam’s hair.

“You would pick the most twisted book to dedicate to me.”  
“It’s a series of books on the … supernatural?”  
“Yeah, baby. You’re a _New York Times_ bestseller … like twelve times over. People can’t wait for the next book. They’re talking about doing conventions, Sam. A TV show is in the works. You had a movie deal, but the TV series would be more lucrative, according to the team of lawyers and shit.”

Dean laughed, moving to touch the first book in the series.

“Ever since college, when you wrote _Woman in White_ , you’ve been a sensation. You were number one on the list before you even graduated.”

Sam’s widened eyes blinked, and Dean let out a laugh.

“Here.”

He walked over, looking through the books, then coming up with one.

“ _What Is and What Should Never Be_. I think this is the one you were talking about. The djinn?”

Sam nodded, flipping through the book, coming across one section that stopped him in his tracks. In the story, Dean was having dinner with his mother, Sam, and Jess. Sam let out a shaky breath, walking over and sitting down hard on the sofa in the room. Everything he read was what Dean had told him after he came back from the djinn attack.

Sam set the book aside, putting his face in his hands and rubbing his eyes. He shook his head, giving a shaky breath when a gentle hand rubbed across his back. 

“I don’t know what’s what right now.”  
“I know, baby.”  
“I’m so confused and it’s—“  
“I know, Sammy. But it’s okay.”  
“How can you say that?”

Sam dropped his hands from his face and Dean gave him a smile.

“Because you’re here. And so am I. And as long as I’m around, nothing bad is going to happen to you.”

Sam smiled.

“Now _that_ sounds familiar.”  
“Hey, we’re getting somewhere!”

Sam laughed, and Dean ruffled his hair.

“Come on. Lunch is getting cold.”


	4. Chapter 4

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Cfour.png.html)

The phone rang and rang, until a gruff voice finally picked up.

_“There’s only a handful of people who have this number, and most of them are Winchesters. Which one is this and what’s your problem?”_

Dean blew out a relieved breath.

“Bobby, it’s me. Dean.”  
_“What’s going on, son?”_  
“Sam. There’s—there’s something wrong with Sam.”  
_“What’s the matter?”_

Dean looked over at the bed and felt the breath hitch in his chest.

“He’s asleep. He’s been asleep for two damn days, and nothing I do will wake him up. I—I’ve tried everything, Bobby. I cut his arm, for Christ’s sake, and the kid didn’t even flinch!”  
_“Calm down, boy. Take a breath.”_

Dean did, pushing a hand through his hair. Bobby spoke again, softer this time.

_“Now, when did this start?”_

Dean glanced at his brother, sleeping soundly, and spoke.

“Two days ago, we ganked a shapeshifter. We’re in Missouri, but you know that. You sent us here.”

He blew out a breath, then spoke again.

“We got to the motel and the kid was exhausted. He took a shower, was practically asleep before his head hit the pillow, and when I woke up yesterday morning, he was still asleep. I didn’t think anything of it because he’s been so wrapped up lately. He needed to sleep. But—“

Dean swallowed.

“He didn’t wake up all day. Hell, he didn’t move all day. I tried to wake him up a little after lunch, but he wouldn’t wake up. I did everything I know to do, but he’s out. Salt doesn’t do anything, silver doesn’t do anything. It’s like he’s in a fucking coma and I don’t know why.”

Dean sank onto his bed, pushing a hand through his hair, then covering his mouth with his hand. After a moment, Bobby’s voice came through the phone.

_“Dean?”_  
“Yes, sir.”  
_“Get him to a hospital now.”_  
“What? Bobby, he—“  
_“Listen to me. If he hasn’t moved in two days, his body’s going to start rebelling soon. He needs to be hooked up to fluids and—“_  
“Bobby.”

Dean’s heart felt like it was stuck in his throat, and Bobby sighed.

_“I know, son. I’m on my way, and I’m getting some researchers on it. I think I might know what we’re dealing with, but Sam needs you to take action now. Can you do that?”_

Dean nodded, and Bobby sighed.

_“Hang on, kid. I’ll be there soon.”_

Dean looked at the phone in his hand, then looked to the bed. Sam looked so peaceful, like he had no worries, nothing weighing on his broad shoulders. Dean walked over and knelt beside the bed, brushing his fingers through Sam’s hair. 

He knew something was wrong when he looked over and saw Sam asleep on his back, arms by his sides. Sam was never a still sleeper, never one to keep to one position, and never ever on his back. 

He should have called Bobby already. Whatever this was should have come for him, not Sam. Dean shook his head, leaning forward just a bit.

“Sammy, if you can hear me, I’m going to fix this. Okay? Just trust me, and rest. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Dean nodded as he stood up, walking over, grabbing his phone, and dialing a few numbers.

_“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”_  
“I’m at the Shady Star Motel off of 55. My brother—something’s wrong. He won’t wake up.”  
_“Is he breathing?”_  
“Yes, but he needs an ambulance now.”

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)

Dean sat in the waiting room, leg bouncing up and down as he stared at the pair of doors at the end of the hall. They’d whisked Sam away as soon as they unloaded him from the ambulance, and no matter the hell he tried to raise, they wouldn’t let Dean back with him.

He didn’t know how long they’d been there. Time was losing sense of meaning to him. Everything was losing meaning, if he was being honest. He needed Sam. Sam was grounding. Sam was …

Sam was everything.

Dean blew out a breath, pushing his hands through his hair.

”Dean?”

His head snapped up, and he was on his feet, embracing Bobby as soon as the man walked into the waiting room. Bobby clapped him on the back, squeezing hard, then stepped back, hands on Dean’s shoulders.

“Have they told you anything?”

Dean shook his head, doing his best to ignore the sudden tears in his eyes. He cleared his throat, then spoke.

“No, they … They took him back before I could even try to say anything.”

Bobby nodded, then turned on his heel, walking straight over to the nurses’ desk.

“Excuse me.”

A nurse lifted her head, pasting a smile on her face.

“Can I help you, sir?”  
“Yes, my nephew was brought in by ambulance a few hours ago, and we haven’t gotten an update or anything. His brother here’s about to go crazy, so if we can get some information…?”

The nurse slowly nodded.

“Sam Winchester?”

Bobby glanced at Dean, surely thinking something about them knowing Sam’s real name, but Dean studiously ignored the look. The nurse gave a sigh, her smile softening into something sadder. Dean’s heart stuck in his throat again, and the nurse glanced behind her, exchanging a look with one of the other nurses, who gave a nod. The nurse stood up.

“I’m Heather. Come with me.”

Dean and Bobby followed Heather down a hall, and she led them into an empty room.

“If you’ll wait here just a moment, I’ll get Sam’s doctor to come out and talk to you.”

Bobby nodded, because Dean was frozen, and Heather left the room. Bobby spoke low, almost under his breath.

“Keep it together, son.”

Dean bent over, putting his head in his hands, then sitting up and turning to Bobby.

“We’re in a private fucking room, Bobby. This is bad. He’s—“  
“Don’t go there. Not until we know something for sure.”  
“You’ve got people on the freaky side of things?”  
“Yes. Ellen’s looking into it, and Jack Garrett, and Maggie Stutzman stopped hunting years ago, but she’s looking into this for me.”

Dean nodded, doing his best to swallow around the lump in his throat.

“Thank you.”  
“Don’t. You and Sam’s the closest thing I got to family.”

Dean nodded again, standing to his feet as the doctor walked into the room.

“Dean Winchester?”  
Dean nodded, walking forward and sticking out his hand. The doctor shook it, and Dean motioned to Bobby.

“Bobby Singer. He’s our uncle. How’s Sam?”

The doctor shook Bobby’s hand, then let out a sigh.

“I’m Dr. Reed, and I’ll be the attending physician for your brother’s case.”  
“How bad is it?”

Dr. Reed sighed.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Dean. Your brother is seriously ill. As of this moment, he is in a deep comatose state. He doesn’t respond to stimuli at all. His organs are dangerously close to shutting down. We’ve put multiple IV lines in to give him fluids and nutrition.”

Dean covered his mouth with his hand, then nodded. Bobby stepped forward, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“Is there anything we can do?”

Dr. Reed sighed.

“We’re running a battery of tests on him, everything from simple blood tests to a spinal tap. He’s currently in CT, and we’re scanning him from head to toe.”

Bobby nodded, and Dr. Reed turned to Dean.

“Is there anything you can tell me that could have put your brother in such a state?”

Dean let out a laugh, shaking his head.

“He was fine. Two days ago, he was tired, but he was fine. He was joking with me, and now he—“

Dean closed his eyes, and Bobby’s hand tightened on his shoulder. Dr. Reed nodded, then glanced at his watch.

“Sam should be coming back from radiology soon. We’re setting him up in a room, and then you’ll be able to see him and sit with him.”

Dean nodded, and Dr. Reed left the room. Dean all but collapsed into a chair, head in his hands, and Bobby sat beside him.

“Jesus.”  
“He is _not_ dying like this.”  
“Dean.”  
“I’m serious. I am not going to let him die from some—some spontaneous coma. Hell no.”

Bobby nodded, biting his cheek to keep the smile off his face. His phone rang in his pocket and he dug it out, flipping it open.

“Yeah.”

Bobby perked up, standing to his feet.

“Ellen. Tell me you got something.”

He listened for a moment, then turned to Dean. He nodded, motioning to Dean, who dug in a drawer until he found a notepad and pen. Bobby sat down, scribbling notes across the pad.

“You’re sure? … Listen, can you call Maggie and talk with her about it? … Yeah, same number. … Oh, Jack Garrett’s on it too for me, so… Yeah. Thank you. As soon as you can.”

Bobby ended the call and looked over to Dean, who held out his hands. Bobby sighed.

“You ever heard of a somnambulist?”

Dean raised an eyebrow, and Bobby nodded.

“Fancy word for a sleepwalker. Turns out, there’s a supernatural being that causes its victims to fall into a spontaneous coma.”  
“A somnambulist?”

Bobby nodded.

“Ellen’s getting as much info as she can, but I’m all but certain this is what we’re dealing with.”

Dean nodded.

“How do you kill it?”  
“Ellen’s working on it.”

Dean closed his eyes, nodding again, and Heather the nurse walked back into the room. 

“Mr. Winchester?”

Dean turned back and she smiled at him.

“We’ve got Sam in a room. You can come see him now.”


	5. Chapter 5

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Cfive.png.html)

He looked so small in the bed.

Dean couldn’t get over the fact that his six-foot-four “little” brother, the one who had taken down ghosts, spirits, and monsters with little effort looked so tiny and helpless in the hospital bed, wires running from under the covers he was wrapped up in to different machines that whirred and beeped. Dean licked his lips as he walked over, sitting down in the chair beside the bed, putting his hands on the side rail.

“Hey, Sammy. I’m right here, okay?”

Dean looked at Sam’s face, peaceful in the deep sleep he was in. He let out a shaky breath, licking his now-chapped lips. He’d been licking his lips so much lately, a sure sign that he was stressed to the max, that his lips were red and raw. The swipe of his tongue over the broken skin was painful, and Dean winced, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge the pain. 

There was little to no information on the somnambulist. Everything Ellen had uncovered, she’d called and let Bobby know. The other hunters who were searching hadn’t been able to uncover much, but one of them—Dean had forgotten who—had put Bobby in touch with a hunter who no longer went on jobs, but solely researched. So far, she hadn’t been able to find anything, but she’d promised that she wasn’t giving up. 

Dean knew how that felt.

He looked down at Sam’s hands. One of them had an IV in the back of it, taped down, feeding nutrients into his veins. The other hand was clear, and that was the one Dean stared at. Wide-palmed, long fingers. Sam’s hands had gotten huge when he turned fourteen, and Dean used to compare him to a puppy who hadn’t grown into his feet yet.  
Even though, Sam’s hands were never clumsy, never in the way or anything. He had an innate grace about him. While Dean couldn’t say the same thing about Sam’s feet—Lord knows the kid tripped more than any other Dean had ever seen—his hands held a quiet, yet almost gentle strength.

Dean reached over, picking up Sam’s hand, feeling the cool, slightly calloused palm. He reached and laid his other hand on top of Sam’s, gently moving his hands back and forth, not realizing the warmth he was trying to pass on to his brother. He kept Sam’s hand in his, looking up at his face. His voice was quiet and soft, echoed by the steady beeps of the machines.

“Where are you, Sammy?”

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)

In a restaurant nicer than anything he could ever remember stepping foot inside in his entire life, Sam was sitting beside Dean at a round table. Their chairs were a step down from recliners, super comfortable. But Sam was still so nervous. He swallowed, fidgeting with the buttons on the sleeves of his shirt. Dean let out a longsuffering sigh, then reached over, taking Sam’s hand in his and giving it a squeeze. Sam looked over, and Dean let out a laugh.

“Would you relax? We’re just eating dinner with your parents, like we do at least once a week. Stop acting like you’re waiting for the principal to come in and interrogate you.”

Sam let out a breath, and Dean leaned over, gently pressing his lips to Sam’s cheek.

“Everything’s fine, okay?”  
“I know.”  
“You can do this.”  
“I know that, too.”

Dean kissed his cheek again, then sat back, straightening with a smile.

“Hey, there they are!”

Sam felt his eyes widen, his breath catching in his throat as he looked up, heart falling to his feet. 

Mary was smiling, blonde hair pulled up off of her neck, a few golden curls dangling by her face. She wore a crimson red dress and was carrying a tiny purse. John was right beside her, in a suit jacket and a crisp white shirt, open at the throat. His face broke into a smile the closer they got to the table, and he went straight for Dean. Dean let out a laugh, hugging back as hard as John was hugging him, both of them talking at the same time. Sam looked over to see Mary watching him with a soft smile on her face. 

Sam stood on shaky legs, and she stepped closer, laying a hand on his arm.

“You feeling okay, sweetheart?”

Sam nodded, and Mary set her purse on the table.

“Come here.”

Sam went, closing his eyes as he leaned down, wrapping her in a hug. She gently rubbed at his back, murmuring softly to him, and Sam stopped trying to fight the tears that were now rolling down his cheeks. He tightened his hold on her, and missed the look she shot both John and Dean. Dean spoke softly, after clearing his throat.

“He did it again, where he thinks he’s living the books.”  
“Oh, honey.”

Mary gently maneuvered him backwards, until he was leaning against the table and she could cup his face in her hands. She thumbed away the tears on his cheeks, then gave him a smile.

“You are an incredible writer. But those are things of fiction, okay? This is real, honey. Your family here.”

Sam nodded, closing his eyes as Mary went on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his forehead. Sam sighed, and John stepped up, clearing his throat and licking his thumb before smearing it over Sam’s forehead. Sam met his eyes and John shrugged his shoulders.

“Lipstick.”

Sam let out a laugh, lunging forward. John let out a huff of breath, then laughed himself as he tightened his hold on his son.

“Good to see you, son.”  
“You too, Dad.”  
“Come on, sit down. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Mary rolled her eyes as John pulled out her chair for her.

“He’s been talking about some kind of shrimp thing ever since we left the house.”

Dean’s eyes lit up.

“Oh, the appetizer?”

John leaned forward to discuss the food with Dean, and Sam just watched them, smiling. Mary reached over and patted his hand, and he looked to her. She gave him a soft smile.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Sam nodded.

“I’m great.”

Mary nodded, lifting his hand and pressing it to her cheek. Sam swallowed, smiling still, then turned his hand over. Mary let out a laugh, but slid her hand into his, giving it a squeeze. Sam opened his menu, blinking back tears, heart full at the sight before him.

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)

Bobby stepped into the hospital room, giving a sigh when he saw Dean slumped over in the chair, head on the bed, holding onto Sam’s hand. Bobby glanced up at the monitors, shaking his head. He didn’t have a damn clue what he was looking at.

He walked over, laying a hand on Dean’s shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. Dean roused immediately, hunter instincts on alert, and Bobby moved to stand beside him, staring at Sam.

“No change?”

Dean shook his head, yawning widely before running a hand down his face.

“Nothing. You find out anything?”

Bobby sighed.

“Yes, and you’re not gonna like it.”

Dean pushed his hands through his hair, shaking his head and rolling his shoulders.

“Give it to me.”

Bobby looked to the bed, then motioned for the door. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Bobby, we—“  
“Just humor me.”

Dean huffed out a breath, standing up, leaning over his brother before patting Sam’s arm. He walked into the hall, crossing his arms over his chest. Bobby followed, closing Sam’s door behind him. 

“Now, what was so important you couldn’t tell me in there?”  
“It’s not that it’s important. It’s just … they don’t know if he can hear or not.”  
“And that matters because …?”  
“Because, like I said, you ain’t gonna like what I have to tell you.”

Dean swallowed.

“Just tell me, Bobby.”

Bobby sighed. 

“Maggie was able to find a few things in some obscure writings.”

Dean nodded, and Bobby went on.

“It appears that a somnambulist is able to turn invisible, and that’s how they get their victims.”  
“How do they ‘get’ them?”  
“Some kind of poison. The poison seems to also be invisible, so it could be anything.”

Dean nodded, huffing out a breath.

“Great.”  
“I ain’t done.”

Dean leaned against the wall, then looked over to Bobby, who let out a sigh.

“Maggie’s still looking for an antidote or a reversal. But everything she’s found seems to point to the fact that a somnambulist forces their victim into a deep sleep, then has them dream their wildest dreams have come true.”  
“What?”

Bobby nodded.

“It’s almost like a djinn, we think. Create some alternate universe that’s better than the shit they go through here.”  
“Are you sure about that? I mean, what if it’s …”

Bobby shook his head.

“That’s the other thing I need to tell you. Of all the somnambulist’s victims … Dean, there’s only documentation that one person has survived.”

Dean’s head jerked around to look at Bobby, and he shook his head.

“Wh … what? No. No, there’s … there’s got to be more.”

Bobby shook his head.

“This is bad, kid. We’ve got to get word to Sam that he’s been attacked. And I think I might know how to do that.”


	6. Chapter 6

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Csix.png.html)

Sam shrugged off his jacket as soon as they walked into the house. Dean tossed his keys into a bowl on a table near the door, then yawned. Sam smiled as he unbuttoned his sleeves.

“Sleepy?”  
“Nah. It’s a reflex.”

Sam let out a laugh, then licked his lips. 

“Hey, Dean?”

Dean glanced over, giving Sam a smile. He blinked, then made a face.

“I’ve got to take these contacts out. They’re annoying the shit out of me.”

Sam let out a quiet laugh, then followed Dean as he walked up the stairs, into the bathroom. Sam watched with rapt attention as Dean removed the contact lenses from his eyes, setting them in their special holder and covering them with saline solution.

Sam hissed in a breath, hands going to his head, letting out a groan. He sank to his knees, never hearing Dean calling his name, never feeling Dean’s hands on him. After a minute of excruciating pain, it suddenly ebbed. Sam gasped, finally hearing Dean’s voice.

“Come on, baby. Breathe. Stay with me. Sammy, come on.”

Sam reached a shaky hand up, grasping Dean’s wrist. Dean gave a shaky laugh, wrapping his arms around Sam and bending his head, resting his cheek on Sam’s.

“You okay? Sammy, you okay?”  
“I’m … I’m okay.”

Dean closed his eyes, leaning into Sam.

“Christ, don’t do that. You scared the shit out of me.”  
“Sorry.”

Dean let him go, keeping hold of his hand. He sat on the floor, and Sam moved off of his knees, sitting close to Dean. After a quiet minute, Dean let out a breath.

“What was that?”

Sam shook his head.

“I don’t know. I was watching you do the contacts, and it was just all of a sudden. Nothing but … pain.”

Dean nodded, giving Sam’s hand a squeeze. Sam scooted over, situating himself under Dean’s arm, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. Dean just smiled, holding him close.

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)

“What the hell was that?!”

Bobby stared at the monitors, glancing back at the flurry of activity around Sam’s bed. The monitors had all started blaring at the same time, and a team of medical professionals ran in, yelling things neither Dean nor Bobby understood. However, almost as soon as the blaring had started, it stopped. Bobby watched one nurse who was intently watching the monitor, then glanced back at Dean, who had a hand over his chest, eyes desperate. Bobby laid a hand on his shoulder, and Dean gripped it hard, until the doctor turned around to face them.

Dr. Reed shook his head, looking at Bobby, then Dean.

“I honestly … I don’t know what happened.”  
“Is he trying to wake up?”

Dr. Reed glanced back at the monitors, then let out a sigh.

“I can’t give you a definitive answer. All of his vitals have relaxed back into what they’ve been since you brought him in.”

Dean ran a hand down his face, shaking his head. Dr. Reed reached out and squeezed Dean’s shoulder, then followed the rest of the team out of the room. Dean looked to the bed, shaking his head again, and walked over, grabbing onto the railing and leaning over, putting his face right next to Sam’s.

“You’re not doing this. Do you hear me? You might as well wake the hell up, because I’m not giving up on you. You understand me?”  
“Dean.”

Dean hung his head, gripping the rail as hard as he could. He let out a breath, then lifted his head to look at Bobby. Bobby motioned with his head, and Dean laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder, then walked over. Bobby crossed his arms over his chest, propping his right elbow on his left hand, scratching his beard with his right hand. He nodded, then looked to Dean.

“I’ve got something we can try. A way to get to him.”  
“Let’s do it.”  
“You don’t even know what it is.”  
“I don’t care. We’re wasting time he doesn’t have.”

Bobby let out a sigh.

“Well … Let’s go, then.”

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)

Sam was sitting on the bed, watching Dean do his nightly routine. He was currently brushing his teeth, in nothing but a pair of red plaid pajama pants. He’d already flossed, and Sam knew, as soon as he’d rinsed his mouth out, he’d gargle with Listerine.

Sure enough, he was right, and after, Dean walked into the bedroom, letting out a breath through his teeth. Sam smiled, and Dean walked over, pushing his fingers through Sam’s hair. Sam let out a quiet moan, and Dean smiled, continuing to comb his fingers through Sam’s hair as Sam’s eyes drifted closed. Sam spoke softly, not opening his eyes.

“Hey, Dean?”  
“Yeah, babe.”  
“Can I ask you something?”  
“Anything; you know that.”

Sam nodded, then blinked his eyes open.

“If you knew that what you had couldn’t last, what would you do?”  
“What the hell are you getting at?”

Sam shook his head, reaching up and taking hold of the hands that had slid from his hair.

“I don’t mean us. I mean …”

Sam let out a sigh.

“I don’t know what I mean.”

Dean smiled.

“I think I do.”

He sat down beside Sam, licking his lips. 

“You talking about the tumor?”

Sam blinked, then nodded. He wasn’t really, but that was more believable. Dean nodded.

“If I somehow knew that we’d only have … a few weeks together …”

He let out a sigh, then looked straight into Sam’s eyes.

“I would make the most out of every single moment. We’d go to bed every night without one single regret.”

Sam swallowed, and Dean reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind Sam’s ear.

“Is that what you mean?”

Sam nodded, then leaned forward, capturing Dean’s lips with his own. Dean smiled into the kiss, reaching up to hold Sam’s face in his hands. Sam’s hands came up to rest on Dean’s sides, and gently tugged him along when Sam laid back on the bed. Dean pulled away from the kiss, concerned eyes meeting Sam’s.

“Hey, you sure? We don’t have to.”

Sam nodded, a brilliant smile breaking out over his face.

“I’m sure. I want … I want you, Dean.”

Dean smiled, leaning down to kiss Sam’s lips again, and Sam’s hands slid up, cradling Dean’s face. 

This was the moment Sam had been waiting for his entire life. Having the person he loved more than life itself in his arms, kissing him, having him love Sam back was more than Sam thought he’d ever have. Tears came to his eyes as Dean kissed from his lips to his jaw, then down his neck. 

Sam let his eyes drift closed as Dean’s lips danced over his collarbones, then down his sternum. He let out a breathy laugh as Dean’s fingers ghosted over his ribs, before landing on his hipbones. Sam sucked in a breath as Dean tugged his sweatpants and boxers down, and his body arched up with a shout as Dean swallowed him down. His hands immediately went to Dean’s head, fingers tunneling through his hair, and Sam moaned, squeezing his eyes shut and panting. Dean pulled off with a devilish grin, moving one hand to stroke Sam’s almost-painfully hard length.

“Breathe, baby.”  
“I can’t … when you ... you can’t … _god_.”

Dean laughed, pushing up to kiss Sam’s lips again. Sam clutched his face, holding him tightly, and Dean moved his hand away, laughing quietly at Sam’s whimper of protest. Dean pulled back just enough to stare into Sam’s eyes, and he gave him a loving smile.

“Relax, sweetheart. We’ve got all night, okay?”

Sam nodded, loosening his hold on Dean’s face. Sam laid back down, head resting on the pillows, and Dean moved to straddle Sam’s chest, smiling down at him. 

“Let me take care of you, okay?”

Sam nodded again, sighing into the kiss as Dean leaned down again. Gentle hands slid over his skin, igniting tiny sparks in their wake. Sam melted into the bed, overcome by sensation, and Dean was just barely touching him. As Dean's hands slid over the expanse of Sam's chest, Sam let out a quiet moan. He took in a deep breath when Dean leaned over, mouthing against his neck, and Sam turned his head, giving Dean all the room he wanted to kiss and mark his skin.

Dean's lips danced over his throat, tongue dipping into the hollow between his collarbones, and Sam groaned, bucking his hips up, finding Dean as hard as he was. Dean lifted his head, heavy-lidded green eyes staring back at Sam, and Sam slowly leaned up, pressing his lips to Dean's, keeping their eyes locked on each other. Dean moved a hand to push through Sam's hair, and Sam's eyes slid closed. Dean smiled into the kiss, closing his own eyes, giving Sam's hair a gentle tug, keeping the smile on his face when Sam broke the kiss to give a wild moan.

Dean leaned over Sam, reaching into the drawer of his nightstand and pulling out a small bottle. He kept hold of it as he moved down Sam's body, peppering kisses along his chest and sculpted abdomen. When he reached Sam's thighs, he looked up, saw the quiet discontent on Sam's face, the worry in the way he was biting his bottom lip. Dean sat back, shaking his head.

"We don't have to.":  
"No!"

Sam shook his head, sitting up, moving to sit on his knees in front of Dean.

"I want to. I promise you, I want this."  
"I can see it in your face, Sam. You're scared."

Sam shook his head again, and Dean reached out, molding his hand to Sam's cheek.

"We have the rest of our lives, Sam. One night won't--"  
"Stop. Listen to me, okay?"

Dean let out a sigh, but nodded. Sam swallowed, then reached up and laid his hand on top of Dean's, pulling it off of his face and linking it with his own hand.

"I'm still stuck in that fuzzy place, all right? I don't ... remember what ... _this_ is like."

Dean slowly nodded.

"So you're ... apprehensive?"  
"Yes. Yes, exactly. Apprehensive. I feel like ... like this is my first time."

Dean smiled, leaning forward.

"Then I'll go slow."

He pressed his lips to Sam's, slipping his tongue into Sam's mouth, coaxing his own tongue into moving. Sam sighed, giving Dean's hand a squeeze, lying back on the pillows when Dean moved to lay him back. They kissed for a long time, until Sam felt bold and spread his legs apart. He jolted at the first feel of a slippery fingertip at his hole, and Dean leaned back, meeting his eyes. 

"Okay?"

Sam nodded, blinking his eyes open and meeting Dean's. Dean gave him a smile, pressing his finger a little harder.

"Just relax and breathe, okay?"  
"Okay."

Sam swallowed, doing his best to make his body relax, and his eyes flew open as Dean's finger slid inside him. He gulped in a breath, and Dean's other hand was at his face, gently caressing his cheek.

"Easy, Sam. Take it easy. This is usually your favorite part."

Sam nodded, letting out a shaky breath, jolting again when Dean's finger brushed over something that threatened to light him up from the inside out.

"What was--"  
"Yahtzee."

Sam gave a breathy laugh, running his hand up Dean's arm.

"Do that again."

Dean did, and was rewarded with a deep, throaty moan from Sam. He slid his finger back, setting up a slow rhythm, then pressed another finger inside Sam. Sam groaned, head falling back to the pillows as his hips bucked towards Dean.

"There we go. Just ride it, baby."

Quick, breathy moans and gasps kept escaping Sam's lips, and by the time Dean was three fingers almost knuckle-deep inside him, Sam moved up, reaching down and grasping Dean's wrist.

"I'm ready."  
"Sammy--"  
"Please. Dean, I want you."

Dean swallowed and nodded, and Sam pushed his hands through his hair as Dean moved away from him. A few seconds later, Dean leaned over him, looking into his eyes.

"Turn over."  
"What?"  
"This will be easier if you're on your hands and knees."

Sam shook his head.

"No, I want ... I want to see you."  
"Sammy..."  
"Please."

Dean let out a breath, then nodded. He swallowed hard, then put himself between Sam's legs. He looked up and met his eyes, and Sam gave him a soft smile. Dean nodded, speaking softly.

"If you want me to stop, just say so. All right?"

Sam nodded, and Dean nodded back to him. He moved forward just a bit, and Sam let his head fall back to the pillows, closing his eyes. He winced as Dean started to press inside, letting out a gasp. Dean reached over, running his hand in a soothing motion up and down Sam's side.

"Breathe and relax, baby. Breathe for me."  
"I--I'm trying."  
"I know. You're doing so good."

Sam let out a breath, and the burn he was feeling increased when Dean pushed in some more. He bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood, and when Dean's cock pressed against the little bundle of nerves, lightning shot through Sam's veins. Sam moaned, and as Dean bottomed out, the burn faded, giving way to an odd sense of fullness. It wasn't bad, just different. And when Dean slowly slid back before pushing forward again, Sam let out a groan.

"Oh my god."  
"You okay?"  
 _"Dean."_

Dean smiled, taking that as a notion to move a bit faster. Sam gave another groan when he did, hands reaching out, grasping at air. Dean smiled, reaching over and sliding his hands into Sam's, lacing their fingers together, and Sam gave a breathy laugh. He blinked his eyes open, a look of wonder on his face as he stared into green eyes so full of love. He shook his head, smiling widely.

"I love you."

Dean smiled, leaning down to kiss him, keeping his hips moving.

"I love you too, Sammy."

Sam groaned, shaking his hands out of Dean's, wrapping his arms around Dean's chest, groaning when Dean leaned into him, the new angle lighting up more incredible-feeling places Sam never knew he had. Dean groaned into his ear.

"You're so hot. So tight. I'm not going to last, baby. Seeing you like it was our first time all over again ..."

Sam groaned, and Dean moved his head to fix his lips on Sam's again. He spoke against Sam's lips this time, not moving enough to let even air between them.

"I want to feel you come, Sammy. You get so tight, so much tighter than you already are. Feels like heaven. And the sweet little sounds you make... Come on, sweetheart. Come for me."

Sam gave a high-pitched moan, and it slid into a deeper tone as Dean reached between them and grasped Sam's cock, stroking it perfectly, with just the right pressure and firmness. Dean only gave a handful of strokes before Sam's hands tightened on his shoulders, nails digging in, and Sam was screaming his name as hot spurts covered his belly. Dean groaned at the sight, eyes clenching shut at the feel of Sam around him, and he followed him right over the edge, barely feeling the shaky arms around him holding him tightly.


	7. Chapter 7

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Cseven.png.html)

“African dream root?”

Bobby nodded to Dean.

“Old friend of mine uncovered a ton of lore about dreams and dream walkin’ and reaching someone in a coma. Apparently, you brew this stuff, drink it, and you can take a walk through someone else’s dreams.”

Dean slowly nodded.

“So if I drink this stuff that … who again?”  
“Garth.”  
“Right. I drink this stuff Garth brings and I can talk with Sammy? Like in his head or whatever, but face-to-face?”

Bobby shrugged his shoulders.

“Guess we can give it a shot. There’s always a chance it won’t work.”

Dean snorted.

“Way to look on the bright side, Mary Sunshine.”  
“Bite me.”

Dean let out a quiet laugh, and Bobby glanced around. He blew out a breath, then shook his head.

“Garth’s not exactly the brightest crayon in the box. Sweet kid, but … little slow on the uptake.”

Dean huffed out a breath.

“Great. Listen, just give me a call when he gets here, all right? I want to go check on Sam again.”

Bobby nodded, and Dean walked back into the hospital, hopping on the elevator and riding up to Sam’s floor. He came to a stop at Sam’s door, where he saw the nurse, Heather, leaning over Sam.

“Hey.”

Dean blinked, swore he could hear a quiet smacking sound, then stared at Heather. She gave him a smile, then stood up, walking around to the monitors and writing a few things down.

“Everything’s holding steady.”  
“What were you doing to him?”  
“Checking his vitals. Listening to his heart, counting his pulse.”

Dean slowly nodded, then let out a breath.

“Sorry, I—“  
“Don’t apologize. It’s fine. I understand. You’re on edge and worried and nervous. Perfectly normal.”

Dean nodded, and Heather gave him a sweet smile before walking out of the room. Dean ran a hand over his face then walked up by the bed, sitting in what he’d come to think of as his chair, and picking up Sam’s hand.

“It’s me again, Margaret.”

Dean smiled, staring down at the long fingers and wide palm that was resting against his own.

“Bobby’s got a plan. If it all works out, we should be talking face-to-face real soon, buddy.”

Dean stared at Sam’s face, hoping against all odds that something would happen. Sam would open his eyes, or give Dean a smile, or even just give his hand a squeeze.

Instead, he remained still.

Dean closed his eyes, letting out a long breath. He bit his lip for a second, then stood up, leaning over Sam’s form. He took in a shaky breath, glancing behind him.

“What if I … what if I told you something I’ve never told anyone else? Or if I did something to shock you, would that wake you up?”

Sam didn’t answer, and Dean hung his head. He lifted it and looked right at Sam’s face, then leaned over further, gently pressing his lips to Sam’s.

A flurry of beeps sounded, and Dean lifted up, a smile crossing his face.

“Come on, Sammy. Come on, come back to me.”

Heather the nurse came back in, eyes narrowed as she stared at the monitors around Sam’s bed. Dean was smiling when he looked back at her, not noticing the look on her face. He reached out and stroked Sam’s hair.

“He’s trying to wake up. I know he is.”

Heather swallowed, pushing a smile on her face.

“Mr. Winchester—“  
“Dean.”

She nodded.

“Dean, what you’re seeing happen here is normal. Sam’s heart isn’t used to … not being used. It’s going to speed up and slow down. But Sam is still very much in the coma. I’m sorry.”

Dean nodded, not taking his eyes from Sam until Heather had finished talking. He looked over and blinked once.

“I’m not losing my brother. He can sleep or be in a coma or whatever you say, but he’s not going to stay that way. He’s going to come back to me. That’s what I know.”

Heather nodded slowly, giving him a soft smile as she walked to the door. She stopped at the doorway, glancing back and glaring at Dean.

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)

Bobby walked into the room to see Dean leaning over Sam’s bed, brushing his fingers through Sam’s hair. Bobby cleared his throat and Dean glanced back to look at him, then turned his attention back to Sam. He spoke loud enough for Bobby to hear.

“Did you get it?”

Bobby nodded, holding up a water bottle.

“Garth went ahead and mixed it up for us. Says it’s some nasty shit.”  
“I don’t care. Give it to me.”

Bobby cleared his throat again, and Dean let out a sigh, turning his head to look at him.

“What?”  
“To ensure that you’ll visit Sam’s dream, we need a bit of his DNA.”  
“Are you kidding me? This is some ritualistic bullshit, Bobby.”  
“It’s the only shot we’ve got, son.”

Dean stood up and slammed his hand against the wall, and Bobby watched Sam, lurching forward and catching the tear that fell down Sam’s face in the bottle. Dean looked back in time to see it happen, and Bobby twisted the top on the bottle, then shook it up. He handed it to Dean, who unscrewed the top and turned the bottle up, draining it. Bobby shook his head, swearing under his breath. 

“Damn it, Dean, that’s all we had. Dean!”

Bobby lunged forward as Dean swayed, catching him and dragging him to the chair beside Sam’s bed. Dean’s eyes were heavy as he blinked repeatedly, and Bobby took hold of his face. 

“Dean. Hey. Look at me. Dean!”

Dean slid his heavy eyes over to Bobby, and Bobby gave his face a gentle slap.

“Tell Sam that he’s the only one who can stop this. Do you hear me? Dean, come on.”

Dean nodded.

“I wi—… I’ll tell ‘im.”  
“Good. Go to sleep.”

Dean nodded, and Bobby caught him as he fell forward, then laid him on Sam’s bed. Bobby let out a breath, taking off his cap and rubbing his head, then shaking it.

“Damn fool Winchesters. Gonna give me a heart attack.”

Bobby shook his head, grabbing the chair he’d sneaked into the room a few days ago, pulling it closer to the bed, and settling in to watch over his boys.


	8. Chapter 8

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Ceight.png.html)

Dean groaned as he blinked his eyes open. He sat up, moving a hand to his forehead, groaning again at the pounding in his skull. He rubbed his hands over his eyes, drawing his legs up under the covers. He lifted his head, blinking his eyes a few times, then picked up the covers.

“Shit. Why am I naked?”

He looked around, finding a pair of sweatpants on the floor. He slid out of bed and pulled the pants on, tying them around his waist, then picked his foot up, seeing the extra material hanging off his leg. 

“Awesome. Why are Sam’s pants in my room? Wait.”

Dean looked around, noticing the unfamiliar room. He let out a laugh.

“It worked. Holy shit. Sammy!”

He ran to the door, throwing it open. He called for his brother again, then walked down the stairs, stumbling when he heard a loud bark at the base of the staircase. A chocolate lab sat there, head tilted to the side.

“Dean?”

Dean’s heart tripped in his chest at the sound of that voice, and he ran the rest of the way down the stairs, bypassing the dog, coming to a hard stop at the kitchen. A tall, muscled back was what he saw standing at the stove, and he swallowed. Sam turned around, giving him a sweet smile.

“Hey. You get enough sleep?”

Dean didn’t say anything; he couldn’t. He walked forward, taking Sam in his arms and hugging him tightly. Sam let out a surprised laugh, then wrapped his arms around Dean.

“Bad dream?”  
“You could say that.”  
“Well, it’s all right now.”

Dean’s eyes flew open when he felt Sam’s lips press against his temple. Sam turned away from him, back to the stove, and Dean felt his mouth go dry.

“Uh, Sam … Sammy?”  
“Hmm? Oh, by the way, last night was …”

Sam let out a laugh, shaking his head.

“I just love you a lot, okay?”  
“Sammy?”

Sam glanced back from the stove, then narrowed his eyes.

“What?”

Dean shook his head, and Sam shrugged his shoulders, turning back to whatever he was doing. Dean turned from the kitchen, walking into the living room, staring at the photos on the mantle above the fireplace. When he reached the end, he walked into the kitchen again, just as Sam turned back from the stove, two plates full of eggs and bacon and toast in his hands.

“I made us breakfast.”  
“This isn’t real.”

Sam stopped, blinking his eyes. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

“What you talking ‘bout, Dean?”

Dean shook his head, tossing out his arms.

“ _This_ , Sam. It’s not real. This house is not ours. You and I are hunters.”

Sam’s hands began to shake, so he set the plates down. He lifted a shaking hand to his mouth, then shook his head.

“No. No, this … No.”

Dean licked his lips and stepped forward.

“Sammy, you’re in a coma.”  
“Stop.”  
“The other night, you went to sleep, and you haven’t woken up since. Do you remember the other night?”  
“I remember last night!”

Sam walked over, taking Dean’s hands and giving them a squeeze.

“You and I, _finally_ together like I’ve always wanted.”

Sam shook his head.

“Like we’ve had. For the past five years, Dean, don’t you remember that?”

Dean shook his head, pulling his hands out of Sam’s hold.

“No, Sammy. We’ve … we’ve only been hunting together again for two years. I came and got you from Stanford, and then we lost Dad. Do you remember that?”

Sam let out an exasperated laugh.

“No. no, that’s the books. That’s not real. You and I, we’re real.”

Sam shook his head again, pushing his hands through his hair.

“This is the tumor again, isn’t it?”  
“Tumor? What tumor? Are you—are you sick?”

Sam stared at him, a look that shook Dean to his core.

“You told me the other day, Dean. I’ve got a brain tumor and it makes me believe that I’m living my books.”

Dean blinked.

“What books?”

Sam huffed out a breath.

“The books in the—in the library thing in there. The _Supernatural_ books that I wrote. You said this stupid thing in my brain makes me believe that I’m a hunter, that Mom and Dad are dead, that all that shit I made up is actually true.”

Dean let out a shaky breath.

“Christ almighty, what’s happened to you here?”

Sam shook his head, closing his eyes. Dean stepped closer to him, laying his hands on Sam's shoulders.

"Listen, I don't know if I have a lot of time here."

Sam shook his head again, and Dean spoke as gently as he could.

"We just finished up a hunt in St. Louis, Missouri. A mile or so from the Arch. When it was over, we went back to the motel, and we took showers. When you got done with yours, you collapsed on the bed, and you haven't woken up since then. Do you know what a somnambulist is?"  
"A sleepwalker?"

Dean nodded.

"Yeah. It's a fancy word for sleepwalker."

Sam shook his head.

"I'm sleepwalking?"

Dean let out a sigh.

"Well ... Sort of."

Sam shook his head again, eyes full of tears when he looked back at Dean. The sight had always brought an immediate lump to Dean's throat, and even now, when the kid was taller than he was, Dean wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Sam and hold him until the tears stopped. Dean stepped even closer, and Sam sniffled. Dean sighed, then spoke again.

"You're in a coma. You won't wake up, no matter what we do. You keep ... I don't know. Your machine things beep and it makes me think that you're trying to wake up."

Sam lifted his head.

"I have these moments where ... it just hurts. My whole body hurts, and I honestly think I'm going to die. Maybe my ... my body is syncing up with me here?"

Dean shook his head.

"Maybe, I don't know."

Sam lifted his eyes to Dean's.

"This isn't real?"

Dean moved a hand to brush some hair out of Sam's face.

"No, I'm sorry. Was it good here?"

Sam let out a laugh.

"You could say that."  
"Sam?"

Sam shook his head, turning away and letting out a shaky sigh. Dean squeezed his shoulder, and Sam turned to face him. 

"This is ... It's just like a djinn, Dean. This is everything I've ever dreamed of. It's perfect here."  
"Except for your brain tumor."

Sam sighed.

"Except for that. Dean, Mom and Dad are alive. They're just down the road. I ... I had dinner with them last night. And you, you're ..."

Sam went quiet, eyes widening. Dean licked his lips.

"I'm what?"

Sam shook his head, and Dean stepped forward. 

"No, talk to me. I'm what?"

Sam let out a shaky breath.

"You're what I've always wanted you to be."

Dean swallowed.

"And what would that be?"

Sam swallowed this time, looking right into Dean's eyes, his own eyes widening when Dean reached up, brushing his knuckles over Sam's cheekbone.

"What I've always wanted, too?"  
"Dean."

They both jolted at the knock on the door, turning towards the doorway. Mary walked in, blonde hair cascading around her shoulders, grocery bags in her hands. She went to the counter, placing the bags there, then turned around. Sam looked over to see Dean staring at her, pain visible in his eyes. Sam started to reach for him, then stopped as he saw the look on his mother's face.

"What is he doing here?"  
"What? Mom, this is--"

She shook her head.

"No, this is ... _not_ your Dean. You don't belong here."  
"Neither do you."  
"Get out."  
"Sammy--"

Dean let out a pain-filled yelp, face screwing in pain as he fell to his knees. Sam lifted his eyes to Mary, noticing her normally-green eyes glowing a vivid red. His own eyes widened, and he shook his head.

"What are you doing to him?! Stop!"

Dean groaned, reaching out and grasping Sam's hand. He looked up into his eyes, grimacing in pain.

"Sam, you've got to fight her. You're the only one--"

Dean whimpered in pain, clenching his teeth together.

"You're the only one who can stop this. Wake up, Sam! Come back to me."

Dean screamed in pain, and Sam took a step back, watching in rapt horror as Dean disappeared. When Sam looked up again, his mother was gone. In her place was a woman with dark hair, her eyes no longer that vivid purple, but a soft brown. She let out a long sigh, looking from the floor to Sam's face. 

"I think we need to talk."


	9. Chapter 9

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Cnine.png.html)

Sam shook his head, stepping back from the woman.

"Who are you? What did you do to him?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"He didn't belong here."  
"Did you kill him?"

She rolled her eyes.

"No. I just sent him back. A little sooner than he planned, I'm sure, and not without pain. You can't just barge into someone else's dreams."

Sam gave her a look, and she let out a quiet laugh.

"I know what you're thinking, and no, that is not what I've done. I gave you this dream, Sam. I dug right into your subconscious and cooked this baby up for you."  
"Why?"  
"Why not? Doesn't everyone deserve to have the chance to live out their dreams?"

Sam shook his head.

"What do you get out of this?"

She pursed her lips, tilting her head to the side. After a moment of silence, she shook her head.

"Sorry. I can't give away _all_ the state secrets."  
"You've got to give me something. Why me?"

She shrugged her shoulders. 

"I saw you, I wanted you. There's no real rhyme or reason."  
"And once you picked me, then what?"

She smiled, and Sam stood in shock as she faded away. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around, looking around the room until she materialized again in front of the refrigerator. He stared at her, and she shrugged her shoulders. Sam rubbed a hand over his chin.

"How did you do that?"

She gave him a smile.

"Comes with the territory. Comes in very helpful when--"  
"You're picking a new victim?"

She made a face.

"When you put it like that ..."

Sam slid a hand over his face.

"So what now?"  
"Now, you have a choice to make."

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)

Dean gasped as he woke up, pushing away from the chair he was sitting in and falling to the floor. He groaned as pain shot through every cell of his body, coughing and gagging.

"Easy, son. Take it easy."

Dean sat up, taking the pan Bobby shoved under his face and throwing up into it. Bobby rubbed his back, and Dean finally passed the pan back. Bobby made a face, walking into the bathroom and dumping the pan, washing it out. He walked back with a wet washrag, and Dean wiped his mouth, then handed the rag back. Bobby handed him another wet rag, and Dean laid it over his face, letting out a groan. Bobby sighed.

"What happened?"

Dean shook his head. 

"I found him."  
"And?"  
"And my mother put me through this."  
"What?"

Dean nodded, pulling the rag off of his face. He took in a breath and let it out, then met Bobby's eyes.

"Is he awake?"

Bobby let out a sigh, and Dean let his head fall back against the wall.

"Damn it. What happened?"

Bobby exhaled again.

"He stopped breathing a little while after you went under. They had to put a tube down his throat."  
"Are you kidding me?"  
"Wish I was."

Dean scrambled to get to his feet, pushing past Bobby to stare at the body on the bed, now with a tube sticking out of his mouth.

"Christ. What happened? I had him. I was talking to him. I told him to wake up."  
"You did the best you could."

Dean shook his head.

"Bobby, it was a girl. She was wearing my mom's face, but it wasn't Mom. I tried to tell him, but she ... Damn it. Damn it!"  
"Try and calm down, son."

Dean let out a laugh. 

"Calm down?! The further he gets into that world, the further he gets away from this one."

Bobby let out a breath, and Dean shook his head. He went still, lifting his eyes to Bobby.

"I know who did this. I know who she is."

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)

Sam sat at the stool in the kitchen, watching the girl as she ate straight from a pint of ice cream. He swallowed, then spoke.

"How'd you do it?"

She swallowed, shivering once, then speaking.

"I usually drip my ... poison, if you will, into a drink. Makes it that much easier on the victims."

Sam shook his head.

"But we didn't go to a bar. We didn't ..."

Sam let out a breath.

"The glass of water."

He looked over to her, and she raised her eyebrows, a slight smile on her face. Sam went on.

"When I got out of the shower, there was a glass of water on the counter. I thought Dean had left it for me, because when I take a hot shower, I'm always thirsty once I get out. It was perfect, just what I needed."  
"In more ways than one, huh?"

Sam let out a breath, and she set her ice cream aside.

"Okay, we need to get this show on the road. Like I said earlier, you've got a choice to make."  
"And what would that be?"  
"You can stay here, in the manifestation of your wildest dreams. Or ... you can die. It's up to you."


	10. Chapter 10

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Cten.png.html)

Sam slowly nodded his head.

"If I have this right ... Then I pretty much die either way, right?"

The woman smiled, straight white teeth showing behind her rosy red lips. She shrugged her shoulders, then sighed.

"You're very brilliant, Sam Winchester. I've heard that many times before, though. Seeing it firsthand is nothing less than amazing."

She nodded, stepping around the counter.

"You're basically right. You're in a lose-lose situation here. But there is a bright side."

She held out her hands, slowly turning in a circle.

"You can stay here, in this world of your own imagination. Where Mommy and Daddy are still alive, therefore fulfilling your lifelong dream of a happy family. Not to mention the romantic relationship. That's a _huge_ no-no in the real world, ain't it? You could have it here. No one judging, no one condemning."  
"Sounds pretty perfect."

She let out a laugh.

"Right?"

Sam nodded.

"Except for the brain tumor."

The smile slid from her face, and she grimaced.

"I'll let you in on a little secret. You don't really have a brain tumor. That was just a ruse to get you to believe this little dream world. You're a tough nut to crack."

Sam slid his tongue over his teeth.

"And if I stay here ...?"  
"No tumor. Just happy ever after, blah blah blah."

Sam let out a quiet laugh.

"So everything here is--"  
"What you've always dreamed for it to be."

Sam nodded.

"And if I go back?"

It was quiet for a moment, and when Sam glanced back, she let out a sigh.

"Then your soul is damned for hell."

Sam pursed his lips, nodding his head.

"Well, that sounds just about right."

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)

Dean paced in front of Sam's bed, shaking his head.

"I swear to God, she was in here the other day, and she said she was checking his vitals, but she wasn't. It's her, Bobby. That--that nurse. Heather. She's the one."  
"You think she's the somnambulist?"  
"Makes sense, doesn't it? She works as a nurse for fucking coma patients. No one would ever know the reason why they never wake up."

Bobby nodded, letting out a breath.

"Yep."  
"It's got to be her, right?"

Bobby met Dean's eyes, both of them nodding before looking to where Sam was lying still, machines still beeping steadily as they breathed for him.

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)

Sam stared at the counters in the kitchen, at the house that was his, but wasn't really. He thought about Dean, the one he had here in this world and the one he'd left behind. The one who fought and did God knows what to get to him. Dean, who had let him in on something Sam never imagined--even in his wildest dreams--could ever really come true.

A smile broke across Sam's face.

He knew what he had to do.

He cleared his throat and turned to face the woman who was leaning against the wall, watching him. Sam licked his lips, a move he associated with Dean, and smiled.

"So I've only got the two choices, then. To stay or die."

She nodded, and Sam's smiled widened.

"What if I picked door number three?"

She raised an eyebrow, then rolled her eyes.

"There isn't a door number three, Sam. You can stay, or you can literally go to hell. There's no in-between, no third option. 'Do not pass go, do not collect $200.'"

Sam glanced to the ground and nodded, then lifted his eyes back to her.

"Well, I'm a Winchester. And more often than not, we say 'screw the rules' and we make our own."

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)

Dean shook his head.

"Are you sure this will work?"

Bobby gave an exasperated sigh.

"Hell no, I'm not sure. I've never dealt with anything like this. This is my best guess, though."

Dean nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. He nodded, meeting Bobby's eyes. Bobby nodded at him.

"We've got one shot at this. And we can only pray it works."

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)

The woman straightened, narrowing her eyes. She let out a laugh, then shook her head.

"You think just because you're a Winchester that things will go differently? Let me let you in on a little secret, Sam. You can't kill me."

His face fell just a bit, and she laughed again.

"That's always the plan they come up with, and you know what always happens? I send them straight to hell for pissing me off. You don't want to do that, Sammy. Trust me."

Fire slid through his veins at the sound of the nickname rolling off her lips. It wasn't right for anyone who wasn't Dean to say that word. It had been ingrained in him--he'd ingrained it in himself--Dean was the only one who could call him 'Sammy.' He set his shoulders, shaking his head.

"Don't call me that."

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)

Nurse Heather walked into the room, immediately walking over to Sam's bed and turning the call button off. She glanced up at the monitors, eyebrows furrowing. She shook her head as she turned around to see Dean standing in front of her.

"Why did you--"  
"We know."

Heather blinked.

"Know what?"  
"What you are."

Her eyes widened just the slightest bit, before she huffed out a breath.

"Hate it had to come to this, but just so you know--"  
"No, this time you're answering to me."

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)

The woman shook her head, dark brown hair cascading around her face.

"Don't make me mad, Sam. I can take your wildest dreams and turn them into a never-ending nightmare."  
"I'm not staying here. And I'm not dying."  
"Well, we'll see about that, won't we?"

She stepped forward, mouth falling open on a gasp as she stepped right into the silver knife Sam had pulled out of one of the drawers without her noticing. She started to shake her head and laugh at him, but her eyes widened even more, gasping again as another wound opened on her chest as Sam watched, hand still gripping the knife buried in her gut. 

"No."

She gave a gurgling cough, and Sam let go of the knife, stepping back as her beautiful body shriveled up to barely skin on bones, fluffy brown hair gone lank and greasy. She threw her arms up, hands curled in a talon-like grasp. She let out a loud scream, and Sam closed his eyes as a bright light shone, obliterating everything in its path.

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Divider.png.html)

Dean slowly lifted his head from behind his arm, blinking rapidly as the bright light dissipated. He looked over to Bobby, who was doing the same thing. They both looked to the bed, where Sam was lying still and quiet, and Dean's heart sank.

His eyes widened when Sam's flew open, body bowing up on the bed as he coughed, gagging around the tube in his throat. Dean ran to the bed as Bobby ran to the door, throwing it open.

"We need some help in here!"


	11. Chapter 11

[ ](http://s1234.photobucket.com/user/bluefire986/media/Once%20Upon%20a%20Dream/Once_Celeven.png.html)

Sam was sitting up in the hospital bed, looking from Dean to Bobby. His throat was sore from the tube that was removed just a little while ago, and his voice was raspy and hoarse. Dean hadn't moved more than three feet from him since he'd violently woken up, even through the disgusting-ness that was the removal of his breathing tube. Bobby couldn't stop shaking his head, looking from Sam to the monitors and back again.

Sam cleared his throat--or tried to--and winced at the pain that caused. He let his hands fall to the covers on the bed and felt his cheeks heat up as Dean slid his hand minutely closer, to where their pinky fingers could brush. Bobby nodded at Sam, lifting his chin as he spoke.

"You remember anything?"

Sam nodded.

"All of it."

Dean spoke up then, shaking his head.

"So when we stabbed the bitch, you stabbed the bitch at the same time?"

Sam nodded, and Bobby shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess the only way to kill it is to kill it in the real world and the dream world at the same time?"  
"Well, a sleepwalker--"

Sam coughed, wincing at the burn in his throat, swallowing, then continuing.

"Sleepwalker. Asleep, but walking around in real life."  
"I see what you mean."

Bobby nodded, and Sam gave him a smile. Sam glanced over at Dean, staring at him for a moment while Dean stared back. After a moment of silence, Bobby cleared his throat.

"Well, I should go call Ellen and let her know we got him back. And then I think I'll call Maggie and give her an update. She'll want to talk to you when you're feeling up to it, Sam."

Sam nodded, and Bobby gave a mighty yawn.

"On second thought, I might head to the motel after I call Ellen. I'm beat."

Sam and Dean both nodded, and Bobby patted Sam's blanket-covered leg.

"I'm glad we got you back, son."

Sam smiled at him.

"Me too. Thank you."

Bobby shrugged his shoulders, then left the room. After a quiet minute, Dean turned to face Sam, giving him a soft smile.

"How you feeling?"

Sam smiled as he laid back against the pillows.

"Tired. Although, I don't understand how."

Dean let out a laugh.

"Well, no offense, but I'm probably going to be watching you sleep for a while."

Sam smiled.

"Creep."  
"Shut up, bitch."  
"Jerk."

Dean shook his head, then sighed, reaching over and taking Sam's hand.

"You really scared me with this one."  
"I'm sorry."  
"It wasn't your fault."

Sam nodded, then spoke softly.

"You remember when you were in my dream world?"

Dean nodded, but raised an eyebrow, and Sam smiled, whispering.

"It doesn't hurt when I whisper."

Dean nodded, smiling as he moved closer. Sam coughed again, and Dean reached over, picking up his glass of water with a straw and holding it while Sam took a sip. He let out a breath, nodding his thanks to Dean when he was finished drinking. Dean set the cup down and reached back to take Sam's hand. Sam smiled at him.

"You said that you ... you wanted ..."

Sam let his sentence trail off, and Dean smiled. He nodded, looking at their hands, then up to Sam's face. He gave Sam's hand a squeeze and leaned in, and Sam's eyes grew wide as Dean leaned even closer, ever-so-gently pressing his lips to Sam's. Sam just blinked at him, and Dean leaned back, studying Sam's face until big, warm hands came up and cupped Dean's face. He let out a laugh as Sam pulled him in, the laugh trailing off as Sam brought their lips back together in a semi-heated kiss. When Sam's monitor started beeping rapidly, Dean pulled back just a bit, both of them glancing up. Dean spoke softly.

"You're still hooked up to the heart one. Pretty cool, though."

Sam rolled his eyes, reaching out to punch Dean's shoulder.

"Hey, did you ... do you mean it?"

Dean met Sam's eyes, smiling softly.

"What do you think?"  
"I don't want you doing this just because it's what I want."  
"That's not why. Maybe a small part, but I'm doing this because I want it just as bad, Sammy."

Sam smiled at the nickname.

"Really?"

Dean smiled, reaching up to tuck a section of hair behind Sam's ear.

"You were fifteen, tall, but not done growing yet, and definitely not grown into your feet. You tripped over everything in sight--and some not in sight--and you were so damn smart. You had this angsty, Pearl Jam-loving thing going on, and I wanted you so bad I could almost taste it."

Sam let out a laugh, and Dean raised an eyebrow. Sam shook his head, reaching out to grasp Dean's hand.

"You were ten years old, thought you were Batman, a badass rebel with kind eyes and soft hands, and all I could think was that when we grew up, I wanted to marry you."

Dean shook his head.

"Really?"

Sam nodded.

"Really."

Dean leaned in again, cupping Sam's cheek as he kissed him, slowly but soundly. Sam kissed back as good as he got, carding his fingers through Dean's hair. They broke apart when they had to breathe or suffocate, and Sam's face lit up in a smile.

"I'm not dreaming anymore, right?"

Dean let out a laugh.

"No, Sleeping Beauty, this is real. Really real."

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this story! I really had a great time writing it. I especially had a WONDERFUL time collaborating with my INCREDIBLE artist, bluefire986. I'd love to work with her again, and you all need to go give her a shout-out! My first Tumblr Case Fic is in the books, and it was a fun ride. ;)


End file.
